Punching Bag
by TheAvianChronicler
Summary: A not-so-quiet evening in the palace training hall. A moment between two masters unable to find the words to say. Just a brief one-shot.


_This is from five years ago, and just a quickie. Going to be posting some old stuff, short one-shots._

* * *

The sky was a midnight blue, and the moon full and beaming. A late-night walk along the Jade Palace grounds, with such beauty above; there was never a better way to loose yourself. Never a scene more serene.

 **THWAK**

Crane sighed. Every night, EVERY night she was training, and he would find her. A dozen more steps and a quick flight to the training hall, torchlight flickering in the crack of the door.

Sure as the sky, there she was.

 **THWAK THWAK**

Barbed logs cut through the air with mechanized precision. Tigress blocked and dodged, her bamboo staff unyielding in the face of assault. She moved like lightning and fought with such passion, more than he had seen in any individual. Through the flickering torchlight her battle took on a sketchy dance, set to a song of grunts and impacts.

 **TWAK THWAK**

 _"RAAGH!"_

One final blow and the dummy exploded into a mess of splinters. Wood shrapnel shot like arrows all around, landing itself in walls and other dummies. Tigress' bloodied shoulders rose and fell with heavy breath. A moment of silence for her fallen opponent.

Speaking to the darkness, her voice resonated with the weight of the Palace.

"What do you want, Crane?"

Unsure of what to say, Crane stammered what he could. He had never been caught before.

"M-me...well," the bird hung on his own words, gaze anxiously flitting about. As she approached, her yellow eyes caught fire with the torchlight. She was beautiful. Crane breathed in deep, then out. He challenged her dangerous eyes.

"I'm worried. Worried about you." He spoke his concerns. She shook her head.

"I have a lot on my mind."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Get out of here, Crane."

Sharing the warmth of the fire, so close to the fighter he could feel her hot breath, he could feel her soul. Tigress was tense, on the edge. Something was amiss. Crane saw a crack in her defenses and took aim.

"Woah, hang on, your arm. This looks iffy. Let me look at that."

She primed her weapon, a moment's glare so seething with hate... then gave in, rolling her eyes. Cool breeze sang through the hall, and chills ran down her spine.

"There are a lot of splinters here," he chimed, "and infection could be fatal!"

"You seem awfully upbeat about it," she grunted. Tigress winced as her arm was pulled apart. It was bad, but she had faith in Crane. His eyes looked up in admiration.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but-"

"I'll take it how it is." The words were spat out with a stern glare. Crane returned it with torn flesh and a wood slice long as her arm was thick. The bird slid the bloody splinter, along with all the others, in the vice of his grinning beak.

"You always do."

* * *

The passage of time was slow and strained. While Crane toiled away on the wound, Tigress was fighting her own savage storm. No matter what, she couldn't let it show.

"Are you almost done?"

Crane took a step back, then another. He nodded, approving his handiwork.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry Tigress, that's as good as it's going to get." Their eyes locked, for only a moment.

"...Thank you, Crane."

"It was my pleasure," he said, "Really, it was."

The silence of the Palace was getting aggressive, ringing his ears.

"You know, all I want is to help-"

"Again," she interrupted, turning for the door, "thank you Crane, but it's time I went to bed."

"Is it me?"

Tigress halted, not surprising Crane. She turned to the bird, eyes alight.

"Answer," he demanded. "Is it me?"

"Get away from me. Right now." She started again, but swift as the wind he flew to block the door. A sharp edge cut through his jade eyes.

"Or what?"

No words. She only pointed to the splintered dummy. He laughed.

"Oh, you'll beat me like the combat doll? Ha! I'm not going to be your punching bag-"

In an instant her paws clamped his beak. Tigress leaned in, dominating his vision.

"If you don't shut up, I'll beat you 'til I break your hollow bones." Crane shot backwards from her grip, primed in combat stance. The dying torch cheered at the standoff. Not a muscle moved...

Then, Crane sighed and relaxed his posture.

"Tigress, I'm sorry," he confessed, ruffling his feathers, "but there is something very wrong here, and very wrong with you."

The words caught Tigress by surprise. Her arms dropped to her sides. Her knees wobbled. What was she doing?

"...I don't know..."

She broke down into sniffles, tried to fight it off, then succumbed to heaving sobs. Crane's jaw dropped as she curled to the floor. The sounds she made shot horror through him. It was so alien; he didn't even think she could cry...

He didn't even think she could cry.

"I...I'm sorry," he muttered. The avian collapsed beside her; "I am so sorry." He felt like crying, but more than that, he wanted her to stop. What was he doing? Tigress' head floated up, her eyes tired.

"Why are you crying? Is this what you wanted?"

Crane shook his head; his eyes were wet.

"What do you want?" he moaned. Tigress opened her mouth to speak, then cried.

"I-I want..." she stammered. Her eyes begged for Crane to understand. It was so hard to say. "I want..."

Crane's eyes widened as the message clicked. Everything made sense now; the secrets, the fighting, all of it. He put a lone feather over her mouth, chuckling. The words came easy now.

"Viper and I are friends," he cooed softly, "and so are we."

"I'm really sorry, Crane. I'm just mad at..." She covered her face, speaking through her paws; "...at myself."

Something warm brushed her fur and she looked. Crane nuzzled his beak to her bandaged arm.

"D-do you need a punching bag?"


End file.
